


Official

by stephanericher



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-02 06:54:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4050469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephanericher/pseuds/stephanericher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a prompt on tumblr. </p><p>Sometimes Aomine wonders if Kise isn’t playing both of them like a double-necked guitar with this kind of thing, drawing their attention and playful insults and giving back his prettiest pout or making faces in the mirror like this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Official

**Author's Note:**

> For tumblr user butnolivingmanami: hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Original prompt was: “Your best friend is my cubicle mate and you visit them almost every day for lunch and the three of us have started eating together. You and I like to torment them together” AU ([from awful-aus](http://awful-aus.tumblr.com/post/113964920429/awful-au-85))

Aomine’s first impression of Kise is that he’s very good-looking; that, in fact, does not change. It’s actually kind of an understatement, and when Aomine finds out a few hours later that Kise was a child model he can’t say he’s all that surprised. After all, Kise’s cheekbones are sharp as jagged glass and his eyes are catlike, an unusual color framed by thick lashes (Aomine could swear he’s wearing mascara). His skin is unblemished and unwrinkled, and his nose and mouth fit perfectly on his face like a template. And, okay, maybe Aomine’s staring a bit and things might get a little awkward considering they’re going to share a cubicle for the foreseeable future but Aomine considers this to be on the luckier side of things. There’s nothing wrong with having a pretty face to look at or think about, especially given the dreariness of the cubicle walls and the dim fluorescent lighting overhead (that Kise somehow manages to look good in).

Aomine’s second impression (coinciding with the acquisition of knowledge that Kise was a child model, among other things) is that Kise is way too chatty. Even as they sit at their desks and Aomine tries to get familiar with it, Kise throws words his way and doesn’t seem to mind Aomine’s noncommittal grunts and nods. He talks about himself, the weather, sports, the job, food, and things Aomine knows nothing about. Eventually, the guy at the cubicle next door comes in and tells Kise to stop being so shrill and he shuts up. At that point, Aomine begins to get productive—and he decides he might be better off investing in some headphones to drown out Kise. But he’ll see; this could be a first-day thing and Kise could eventually give up, or maybe he’ll get promoted to his own office in enough time to think this won’t be an issue.

Aomine’s third impression isn’t really an impression at all, but it is a definite thing he knows and associates with Kise so it might as well be. It’s a tall green-haired man in glasses, standing by the entrance to the cubicle with his arms crossed. He coughs, and Aomine turns.

“Midorimacchi!” says Kise.

“Kise, lunch is starting and I don’t want to be late.”

“But you haven’t met Aominecchi yet!” (Aominecchi?) “Aominecchi, this is my very best friend in the world, Midorimacchi. And Midorimacchi, this is my new cubicle mate Aominecchi.”

“Midorima Shintarou,” the green-haired man says with a short, stiff bow. “And I am not Kise’s best friend. We’re merely acquaintances.”

“Midorimacchi, that’s so mean,” says Kise, dramatically falling backward into his chair. “All of our history, out the window like it didn’t mean anything!”

“And you are?” Midorima says to Aomine, pointedly ignoring Kise.

“Aomine Daiki,” says Aomine with a return bow.

“Whatever,” says Kise. “If Midorimacchi isn’t my best friend, then Aominecchi can eat lunch with us, too.”

“I wouldn’t have objected, even if we were best friends,” says Midorima. “Which we’re not.”

* * *

Midorima is probably weirder than Kise, but he’s snarkier, too, and it’s clear from the get-go that he enjoys teasing Kise. Kise probably enjoys it himself, fake tears and dramatic sighs and all; he doesn’t seem like the type to put up with people he doesn’t enjoy being around. After all, the women in their department are always (painfully obviously) trying to flirt with him, and though Kise enjoys the attention he deflects it after a while, when the flattery’s edge has dulled and he’s decided that he and these women have very little in common.

Still, Midorima’s quiet weirdness fits in with Kise’s loud bombast more than it should—maybe it’s because Midorima’s quite pretty himself, once Aomine gets past the glasses and the nerdy clothes and the frown (and, okay, not really past that last part because it is actually kind of sexy). His eyes are brilliant green, framed by lashes that definitely rival Kise’s and are definitely not mascara-enhanced, and his nose is small and sharp and perfectly centered. His face is angular, somewhat well-suited to his long bangs, and his limbs are long and lithe, enough for Aomine (had he not known the truth) to guess ten times out of ten that Midorima was the former model and not Kise.

And Aomine himself fits surprisingly well into their dynamic; part of it’s the way he enjoys being around pretty faces but part of it’s a personality mesh. What with he and Kise alone is always in danger of swinging into awkwardness or one-sidedness is perfectly complemented by Midorima’s well-timed snark and the ease with which Kise and Midorima treat each other and, still a bit surprisingly, Aomine as well (Midorima had taken a while to warm up to him, but Kise’s steady openness is contagious and soon enough Aomine’s open with both of them and Midorima has overcome his discomfort and shyness). And Aomine’s discovering the fun that comes with calling Kise out on his bullshit and rebuking his monologues with some remarks of his own.

“Do I have anything in my teeth?” Kise asks.

“Yes,” Aomine says, his voice joined by Midorima—neither of them is looking at Kise at all.

“You guys are so mean to me!” Kise wails. “Ganging up on me like this.”

“Like you wouldn’t take this chance to look in a mirror,” says Aomine.

For a second he wonders if that’s too far, if their friendship isn’t at the level where they should say that kind of thing even if they’re thinking it—but then he sees Kise’s favorite pout on his lips and the smirk twisting at Midorima’s lips despite itself.

Sometimes Aomine wonders if Kise isn’t playing both of them like a double-necked guitar with this kind of thing, drawing their attention and playful insults and giving back his prettiest pout or making faces in the mirror like this. He’s seen the way Midorima looks at Kise when he thinks no one’s looking, and he knows the way he feels (and hasn’t bothered to hide it). Both of them want him, and Kise just might be pulling them in like stupid fish who can’t feel the hook through their mouths quite yet.

Or he could just be a dumbass, but that possibility frankly doesn’t seem too likely.

 


End file.
